No way back
by Quaerenspuella
Summary: Netherlands tries, once more, to achieve his aim, i.e. gaining Portugal's friendship  or perhaps more... .
1. Chapter 1

He wept off the sweat covering his forehead while advancing in the dark. It was extremely late at night, around midnight, he thought, he wasn't fully sure about it, but he knew he should be already lying in his bed, waiting for his sister to treat his wounds. Once more, he had been injured during his conquers, once more he had reached a new, unexplored territory needing civilization and had fought in order to spread his domination around. Such memories were twisting and warping inside his head whereas he was dragging his steps towards his mansion. None seemed to notice his return, nobody appeared to welcome him back, and he suddenly felt horribly lonely, in spite of his grandness. All streets, from the widest lane till the narrowest avenue, were silent, almost dead in that foggy obscurity which surrounded each corner, each curb, each roof. After leaving, he had been reminiscing about his folks, about his country, about his skies, he had expected his compatriots to stand along the quay the whole time long, awaiting their master. He was certain they would congratulate him for broadening their empire and widening their language, offering bunts of flowers, chocolate baskets, beer bottles and more. On the contrary, his wishes had been betrayed: no man was looking for him or eagerly seeking his hand for shaking it; no woman was trying to embrace him or pouring joyful tears to celebrate his heading back home; no kid was pointing at him in admiration or tearing his cloak to receive a flick on the right shoulder. He sighed in disappointment.

Indeed, his latest crusade in South Africa had been extremely strength-stealing. From the very initial disembark the savages seemed to dislike Netherlands and his manners, so much that they didn't allow him to encounter their chief as he had estimated. He absolutely wanted to get in touch with her for courting her, forcing her into bed and finally subdue her – his usual technique, the one he had applied in Suriname, in Indonesia, in the Antilles and in every other place he had visited – in order to dispose of her goods, her handwork, her raw materials. But this one time, his plan hadn't been fulfilled. In front of such a stark hostility, his seamen were compelled to get forearmed and exterminate a good part of the local population. The strife last several years and caused him considerable damages, both in terms of resources and of money, but at the end the queen gave up and handed her country. However, despite his victory, Jasper understood his newest score would need to be repopulated as soon as possible, otherwise it wouldn't bring any profits; hence, he cast off half of his sailors in there, urging them to work hard and to develop a new, Netherlands-imprinted economic system.

"Brother!"

In the meantime, without even realizing it, he had reached his destination. He abandoned his remembering as soon as he heard the familiar voice calling him. His sister, Belgium, was already standing on the doorstep, waving her left hand for catching his attention, her bright eyes shining with relief. Her teeth were slightly chattering, as she was wearing her violet nightdress only.

"Anneke! Are you nuts? What are you doing outside? Have you been waiting for me the whole night long?"

"_Jazeker_! You're my brother after all, I was looking forward to your homecoming!"

"You shouldn't have, you're surely going to get a cold now…"

She ignored his reproaching and hugged him delightfully. "I've been missing you, Jasper!"

"Ouch! Don't grab me that hefty, _alsjeblieft_…"

Belgium drew back and looked high at him with a clearly teasing glance. "Oh, I didn't know you are such a sissy! If that's the outcome of your travels, well…"

She aborted her own speech when she remarked her fingers were dirty with blood. Her eyes popped out with fear and she couldn't add anything more than a murmured 'what the heck…?'

Jasper grinned, trying to take it ironically. "Yeah, I haven't mentioned it yet, but in South Africa I had some troubles… my traditional strategy wasn't effective…"

"What are you babbling about? You're bleeding! Come in, you need to be cured!"

"Oh, my, don't be panicking like that, Anneke! It's alright… luckily I still had a bunch of those good herbs…"

"Jasper!", his sister scolded him vigorously. "I had begged you not to smoke grass anymore!"

He shook his head, chuckling. "_Zustertje_, how could I resist lacking of my best friend? That's where I grasp my energies from. I couldn't have born all the pain."

Belgium groaned and resigned. "Let's move in, I'm disinfecting your lesions."

Netherlands nodded and smiled at her as gently as he could. He didn't want to show her how aching it was. Being the eldest, he tried his best to hide his weaknesses in order not to make her worry. She was the only relative he cared about, although she had fallen in love with their ancient tyrant, Antonio, and even if he blamed her for this, he could have never hated his sweet sister. He smacked Anneke on her right cheek and entered the house, gritting his teeth due to the soreness. He instantly walked into his bedroom and laid himself softly on the mattress, breathing deeply.

"Jeez, I guess the painkilling effect's gradually fading…"

The young woman came back holding a bowl full of sterilized water and a washcloth. She put them onto his bedside table and bent over him in order to undress his body as slowly as she was able to. After depositing his scarf and his shirt into the washing basket, she started removing the temporary plasters and bandages her brother had used to stop the hemorrhage. Even though her touch was delicate, Netherlands moaned loudly.

"I'm sorry, brother… but it's necessary…", she mourned with tears in her eyes.

"I know, do it.", he answered categorically, panting.

The Belgian spent the following hour plugging his injuries and secretly praying God to help him recover. She noticed he had already fallen asleep, probably because of the physical stress he had been obliged to face and of the amount of blood he had lost. Caressing his ash-blond hair, Anneke set a warm patchwork on his upper body, attempting, in this way, to keep his body temperature stable.

"Hopefully you're going to be fine, _broertje_.", she whispered, switching the lights off.

She slid out, closing the wooden door as cautiously as possible behind her.

She hadn't had enough courage to tell him concerning the two sealed letters on his desk. He would have discovered the terrible news the following day.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jasper...?"

Belgium snaked silently into the room, bringing over a silver tray. She had bags under her eyes for waking up incredibly early and preparing an opulent breakfast for his beloved brother. A mug of robust, black coffee and some buttered loaves dominated the center of the shiny surface, whilst a jar of honey and a packet of pre-sliced cheese were standing aside. The view of Netherlands lying peacefully and breathing regularly tranquillized her; apparently he wouldn't have any complications. Anneke posed everything on the desk and drew the curtains: the sunlight penetrated immediately and bounced upon the man's eyes, awaking him pitilessly. He grumbled loudly and hid his head childishly into the pillow.

"You idler! Stand up!", his sister said, pulling his sheets away. "It's breakfast-time!"

"Okay, okay, I got it!", he stated, with a pout on his face. "But, holy cow, stop shouting like that! I'm still so sleepy... and this current headache I'm having doesn't help!"

"You wouldn't be in such a lame state if you ceased your insane wandering!"

"How often am I supposed to repeat it?", he complained, scratching his nape. "It's not directly up to me; I've already explained it to you, my dear. The wild world's standing out there and we Europeans are responsible for its standardization. That's our mission. And I won't let others play this game for me, I wish to be as active as the other nations. I want our language, our culture and our vision of things to rule around this planet."

"That's no good reason for letting yourself be shredded!", she talked impudently back. "You're totally out of control, brother! Aren't those countries you've been chasing after enough? Why are you still hunting?"

He yawned and stretched his arms before answering. "Would you rather surrender in front of France and Britain and their fleets? If I hadn't led my army and my navy upwards and downwards, towards the new frontiers, Rose and François would have annihilated us both."

Belgium coughed with embarrassment. "Oh, by the way... speaking of them..."

The fair-haired man, after sitting down in front of the writing desk, started drinking his coffee. "Yeah?"

She couldn't avoid fiddling with her fingers. "Well... they sent you a letter, or something..."

He spitted out half of what he had been keeping in his mouth out of astonishment. "What? You're joking, aren't you?", he barely finished his sentence before noticing two light blue envelops which emerged behind the glass jar. He stared at them for a short while, and then tore them out. He recognized doubtlessly France's and Britain's handwritings. "...When were they consigned?"

"I don´t remember exactly...", Anneke admitted. "I suppose a few days ago..."

Netherlands, visibly nervous, pushed the tray on the left side of his desk and lifted up Rose's missive. He scratched the seal off and extracted its content. England's untidy calligraphy caught his eyes; there were just a couple of lines written in black ink.

'That's it, Netherlands. You trespassed. I had warned you not to cross my path any longer, but you didn't want to hear my suggestions. How did you dare ignoring my advices? How did you dare entering Africa? That continent's my property! Oh, well, mine and... France's. Nevertheless, you attacked South Africa, I got informed yesterday morning. I'm sorry, but that means war. I won't allow such a reckless kid like you to extend his commercial network. You'd better get ready now. It's too late, I cannot forgive your attitude. You're going to pay for your disrespect.'

Jasper glommed. He hadn't reckoned such a quick and harsh response from her part. He had settled for that furthermost portion of the African area with the hope it wouldn't engender any rivalry with the adjacent regions governed by Miss Kirkland and Monsieur Bonnefoy. Though, seemingly, his prudence hadn't been fruitful, seeing that the Englishwoman's intelligence agents had discovered his business line! And now, she had declared war to him! Passing his right hand down his neck, he dropped the first letter and took the second one. François' decorated paper reminded him of the time he had spent beside him, learning French and sharing portraits. He puffed.

'Who could have predicted such a day? Who could have foreseen such events? I've always considered you to be a promising pupil, but, my God, you've largely overcome my expectations. You'd probably dislike hearing such words from me; however, you shouldn't have gone that far, Jasper. I cannot permit you to grow more, to wipe your tentacles around new districts. That's not your role. The game's over for you. You forgot where your place is, do you see? I've discussed with _Angleterre_ and she disapproves your action as much as I do, ergo we established we'd form an alliance and halt you. Watch out, your end is near.'

"What's up, brother? Something serious?", Belgium hazarded, shivering a bit.

"Something gross, Anneke.", the man affirmed, drumming his fingers on the wooden top. "It seems like South Africa continues giving me pickles." He flashed on his feet, opened his wardrobe and took a clean cardigan out. "France got allied with Britain. They're planning to teach me a lesson." He slowly dressed up. "They weren't very happy about my brand new colony."

The Belgian gasped. "What? This may not be true! How can we solve that? Do you have any idea?"

Holland answered lucidly, analyzing the situation. "I don't have much of a choice, actually. I refuse to give up without wrestling… but I'm not stupid, I know I have no survival chances if I battle alone. My only possibility is to find a companion aswell." He turned back at his sister. "Bring me my address book, right now! There's no time to misuse."

She ran into the sitting room and came back a few minutes later, with a red booklet in her right hand. He plucked it promptly and, after dampening his index, leaved through, alternating rapidly the pages and scrolling the names. Meanwhile, Anneke sat down on his knees.

"Hey, what about _Spaanje_?", she asked suddenly, pointing out the Spaniard's entry.

"Don't even daydream about it!", he barked angrily. "I won't stipulate a treaty with my ex-dominator! Never! Forget it!", his voice sounded irremovable. "He would profit of his old superiority and constrict me, so that I have to bow down again in front of him. I don't care about your crush on him…"

The girl blushed unexpectedly and jumped back on her feet. "Me? A crush on him? That's a lie!"

"Sure… that's why you're so sensitive whenever we talk about him."

This statement upset her so much that she simply left the room, slamming the door behind herself.

Netherlands smirked and moved on with his search. Alice's name came out. "_Italië_… she certainly is loyal and honest…", he reflected over and over, realizing that, still, she was a fabulous artist, composer, writer, scientist, craftswoman… but no capable warrior. He crossed her out as he had done with Antonio.

The desperation was gradually imprisoning him: none among his acknowledges seemed to be proper for his objective. He smashed the organizer away and cursed loudly. He would have died. With no external aid, with no partner, it was impossible, inconceivable, for him, to defeat that infernal duo. He walked around, in circles, waiting for a genial dido. Fortunately, it arrived.

"Portugal!", Jasper exclaimed, remembering the woman he met some years before.

That was the perfect solution. Of course, they hadn't kept in touch at all, but he didn't doubt he would be able to persuade her to join his cause. After all, being in his team and destroying the french-english leadership beside him, she would obtain unimaginable advantages. He nodded unconsciously and carried out his luggage, which lied under his bed. He filled it up with the bare essentials and got then concentrated on the contract draft.

He sailed off without even saying good-bye to Belgium. He left a short message behind, clarifying his program and begging her to wish him luck. Since his wounds were still hurting, he couldn't cover the whole distance all at once and needed some stops along the way for taking up his forces. After two and half weeks he achieved his destination: a sunny day awaited his three-decker. He roamed across the capital, looking for Portugal's house. Looking around, he felt fascinated by the awesome architecture, the musicality of the language, and the colors of the clothes. All of a sudden, a huge castle appeared in front of his eyes: Jasper deduced immediately that was the place he had been searching. He approached the gateway and knocked self-confidently.

"Um momentinho! Estou a chegar!"

He understood no word of what she said, but he beamed at hearing her voice again. Although he had had the occasion to chat with her only once, her accent had remained in his ears. He crossed his arms on his chest, tapping with his left foot, and stood patiently waiting.

"Aqui estou...!"

The brunette showed up, opening the door in a hurry. She had run to reach the doorway as quickly as possible, because she was still breathing heavy. Her golden earring was still swaying when she interrupted herself. She opened her blue eyes wide at recognizing those lineaments.

Holland smiled at her and started talking in Latin. "Wow, it seems like your look hasn't changed in the past years, Portugal." He referred obviously at the fact she was still wearing masculine clothes – a dark green shirt, misty grey trousers and black boots – like she did the very first time they bumped on each other.

"Mind your own onions, Netherlands!"

"Call me simply Jasper, honey."

"Jasper?", she looked surprised at hearing that proposal. "Why should I? We're no friends and no relatives, therefore it's no use."

"What's the point of behaving so rudely? I come for a visit and that's how you welcome me?"

Portugal snorted. "I think I've already told you I don't want anything from you."

"Things have been modified, Joana."

"Wait, how do you know my name? I haven`t introduced myself yet."

Netherlands grinned. "Have you forgotten I used to be under your brother's rule? He didn't mention you that frequently, but he still keeps loads of pictures of yours. You were a really cute tomboy, you know?"

The Portuguese maid blushed. "I was no tomboy! I just tried to become stronger! I've already told you I need no men around; I'm enough for my own protection."

Netherlands laughed. "And that's why you wear trousers and not dresses? That's somehow pathetic, Joana. A woman is a woman, and a man is a man…."

"Disappear!", she shouted at him. "If you've come to deride me, I'd better cut it off."

"Wait, you stubborn creature!", the Dutchman grabbed her on her left elbow. "I didn't mean to mock you. It was just my own way to unblock the awkwardness… Actually, I'm here because I have a special offer for you. I mean it. Let me in."

He looked down at her, intensively. He said to himself she was somewhat pretty… such a pity she was so unwomanly. She was most likely lesbian, he assumed. There would be no other logical reason for her to screen her gender.

Her anger dwindled, as she stared into his eyes. She hadn't erased the memories of their first meeting, the memories of him holding her hand and kissing it softly. She had wanted to bury those past images, though she never could, due to the attractiveness of that stranger. She sighed and invited him in with a swift gesture.


	3. Chapter 3

A huge, flourishing park surrounded the manor: while tracking Joana, Netherlands' gaze flew from the high, ever-green trees whose branches were cuddled by the fresh, howling breeze to the flowery pots elegantly adorning every corner. Roses, lilies, narcissuses sprouted everywhere. He could nothing but whistle in appreciation.

"Holy fuck! That's amazing. Who's your gardener?"

"A professional and worthy one.", she proudly declared. "Myself. I wouldn't entrust anybody with my little oasis.", she claimed, skimming the blue campanulas she had planted in a terracotta vase various days before. "I enjoy flora in all its shapes."

"You're telling me you take care of the entire garden on your own? No way!"

"That's the truth.", her contentment lit her visage up. "It's my own method to relax; whenever I feel stressed or pressed I sit for some hours on that lawn swing over there", she indicated a timbered one hidden in the shadow. "…sniffing the pollen and the vegetation scent, vagabonding from one bush to the other with my eyes. That's magical."

She seemed to be so inspired, so deeply involved that Holland didn't feel like breaking into her discourse. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he pronounced no single word, seized by her melodious voice and her charming appearance. If only she hadn't neglected her feminine being, he thought, if only she hadn't been that inflexible, he would regard her as a sex prey and not as a simple commercial colleague.

"_Irmãzinha_!"

A ringing voice echoed in the vicinity and a younger girl shoved into the scene: it was a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl with curly, coke-black hair and black eyes. She came closer, jogging and wheezing. Jasper looked goofily at her, having no clue about her identity. As soon as she joined the two, she hugged Portugal, hanging her arms tightly around Joana's neck. The contrast between the two complexions was manifest, Portugal being way paler than the new-entry.

"Who is she?", he questioned, addressing the Portuguese maiden.

Joana chortled. "Here you have my youngest adoptive sister. Her name's Brazil."

This last one turned gradually to the foreigner with a surprised look. "Who are you? I've never seen you before…", she commented, slightly emotional.

The Dutchman crouched down, lifting her chin with his right hand. "Oh, yeah, you're right, Miss. I'm Netherlands.", he smiled seductively as he was used to in front of every woman, bringing Brazil to blush. Such a little girl as she was, she had never got to know any European men and his physique stroke her merciless. His green eyes reminded her of the forests he had grown up through, his hair seemed to be so silky, his teeth were so shiny…! She felt herself burning in the presence of such a handsome guy. She instinctively clung to her elder sister.

"_Querida_, Netherlands and I need to discuss about serious issues now. I was about to guide him into our house-hold.", Joana explained, stroking her sister's hair. "Would you wait for me in your bedroom? I'll arrange this in a second, I promise."

"Why can't I stay? I'll be good, I swear!", Brazil protested.

"It's an adult matter. You needn't to mind about such things yet."

The younger gripped her dress. "Please!", she cried out loud. "I'm always alone in here! I would enjoy a bit of company, you're constantly at work and never have time for playing with me!"

"Didn't you twig what I've just said?", Portugal raised her voice.

"You're mean, sister!", the other yelled, before hitting Portugal on her belly and rushing away.

The brunette sighed and shook her head, then she spoke to Holland again. "Shall we finally go? We've already wasted our time, I believe."

"How weird…"

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. I was just stunned at seeing how you can switch your mother-like behavior into a father-like, all of a sudden.", Jasper provoked her. "You're really turning into a half-man, that's risky."

Portugal presented him with a frosty look. "As long as I'm able to reason with my brain and not with my cock as every man does, that's totally okay.", she said, flinging her hair back. "Anyways, you'd better avoid such jokes if you really wish me to listen to your bid. In case I were in a bad mood, I could kick you out of here with no regrets."

"No worries, I got it.", he worded, reclining his head leftwards and nodding.

Joana didn't add anything and moved on, whilst her boots were cracking due to the gravel path decorating her yard they were walking on. Netherlands, following her with no hesitation, remarked how overconfidently she stepped. All women he had met used to foot in a fragile way, combining their motions as graciously as possible, trying to produce no noises, giving the impression they'd be swirling; the Portuguese girl, on the contrary, marched ahead almost fiercely. Unexpectedly, instead of being disgusted by this gait, he felt captivated by it.

"Here we are", she announced, pushing a creaking, old door. "Guests first."

"Wait, wait!", Netherlands complained. "You want me to enter before a woman? You're kidding!"

"I strongly recommend you to, Holland.", she snarled. "My patience's tapering."

"Okay, okay.", he gave in and passed beside her. By this movement, he could smell her skin, which emanated a marvelous odor. Once more, he got mad thinking of such a hot lady having no weakness for men. He would have gladly wooed her, if she hadn't detested guys. He fell back into reality as his accompanier slammed the gate behind them. She overtook her visitor and escorted him into the salon, where a series of stools and chairs stood.

"Feel free to talk frankly.", she encouraged him, while sitting down on a stool. "I don't like word carousels and I cannot devote you the whole day. Be as concise and direct as you always are.", she concluded, crossing her legs.

Jasper gaped at her pose. She looked extremely sexy. But he couldn't ruin the only occasion he had because of his hormones. He sat down on the first chair he afforded.

"It's about England, and France.", he debuted. "Since they started aiming at Africa, there hasn't been peace. A while ago, I occupied South Africa and they obviously didn't like it. Three weeks ago, more or less, they mailed me a war declaration."

Joana was toying with her earring. "So what? This doesn't affect me at all, I think.", she looked fully uninterested. "It doesn't depend on me and I'm not part of it.", she elucidated.

"Of course not.", he replied. "Not yet, at least."

"How do you mean that?", her voice sounded shocked.

"You silly girl… Don't you recall you own some colonies in Africa, too? Mozambique, Angola… remember?"

"I don't get your point. My protectorates don't border with my cousin's or Britain's. Furthermore, François and Rose have never dissented about my settlement in there."

Netherlands stood up. "Not yet, as I mentioned before. Your brother Spain also owned a small territory in the center of the continent, but he was compelled to flee because of the Englishwoman. Her army's definitely tougher than yours. Your empire's only a commercial one, like mine, and no imperialistic. If she assaulted you…"

"I'm convinced she never would.", she butted in. "Our relationship's extraordinary. I provide her coffee, chocolate, maize, and she ships me wonderful fabrics and gems. She's brilliant."

"You shouldn't mix up dealing and feeling.", Jasper stated. "Even though you're in love with her, it doesn't mean you…"

Portugal jumped up anxiously. "What? What have you just said?"

He arched his eyebrows in astonishment. "Hey, calm down. No discrimination was implied, or anything of the sort… I've nothing against lesbians…"

She bolted in his direction and stopped a few centimeters away from his chest. "Whoever on earth told you I'd be homosexual?", her eyes were scorching with rage.

The fair-haired man stared straight into her face. "Erm… nobody. I just figured it out on my own… I mean… look at yourself… you're so… authoritarian.", he stuttered.

"Oh, I see.", Joana wore up a thoughtful expression. "So, you're one of those idiotic dudes cataloguing as 'lesbian' each woman who doesn't drool for them? How clever of you.", she jostled him back.

"Ouch!", he whispered. His wounds hadn't healed completely yet.

"Have I hurt you, yellow-belly? I'm so sorry!", she made fun of him.

Netherlands growled at her. "You prick! I was seriously injured some months ago and I'm still convalescing!", he held his chest for a few seconds and recoiled onto the chair.

Joana looked down. "Gosh, I… I didn't know it…", he walked towards him with a miserable expression in her eyes. "F-Forgive me… L-Let me examine you…", she unbuttoned his jacket and his vest and began to palpate his trunk. It was full of fresh scars, but despite these ones she could plainly feel his well-trained muscles. "Everything's okay, I think…", she murmured, still elated with her fingering.

Jasper could hardly breathe during her touching – although her nails weren't polished and her skin wasn't too smooth, her moves were gentle and mild. He swallowed and gazed at her body parting from his own. "Well… as for our speech…"

"Perhaps I've understood what you desire from me.", she presumed. "You're attempting to find an ally, aren't you? Your will is making a pact."

"Summarizing, yeah. My armed forces cannot overpower the French-english ones. I'm offering a deal. Let's unify our militaries. I know your objection: at the moment, neither Rose nor François are menacing you. But here's my argument: they aren't today, but they could be tomorrow. Let's act beforehand, Joana."

She crossed her arms and looked above, biting her lower lip. "I cannot give you an answer so naively. I need some time to think it over, Jasper."

The man smiled: it was the first time she had pronounced his name. "I can totally understand your reasons, though I didn't carry enough goods along; I cannot remain more than two or three days. My crew would starve."

"What are you talking about?", she uttered. "I'm going to host you as long as I've made my decision."

Netherlands stood slowly up, blushing. "Are you sure it doesn't disturb you?"

"I am.", she nicely grinned at him. "I'm preparing the guest room, then.", she warned him, opening the door. "Oh", she turned back to him a last time before leaving, "I'd better advise you: I'm quite slow at choosing. It could take up to several weeks. Boa noite!"

The Dutchman was conducted into his room by Portugal's servant. He wore his scarf off and threw himself on the bed. He didn't know exactly how it had happened, but he had been able to deal with that woman. That gorgeous woman, he hummed before closing his eyes and dozing off.


	4. Chapter 4

He unclosed his eyes in a flash, because he had the impression someone was watching him. He glimpsed a human figure falling apart, but, his sight being still blurred after the nocturne sleep, he couldn't identify it. He rapidly rubbed his eyes and recognized Portugal's little sister, standing next to his bed.

"Hey, sweetie", he jeopardized, smiling at her. "What are you doing in here?"

The younger girl crossed her hands on her skirt and bowed her head down. "I'm sorry, Mister, I…"

"Gee, don't call me like that!", Jasper replied ironically. "I'm no old chap, you know."

Brazil didn't dare staring directly into his eyes. "Well, I'm younger than you, and… I was taught to show respect when conversing with older persons…"

He moved the blanket aside, scratching his left shoulder. "How old are you then?"

"I'm thirteen… going to fourteen next March!", she answered, stiffening her fists.

He laughed loudly. "My God, I'm only six years older than you. Don't be that formal.", he stood up, half-naked. His sinewy arms let Brazil blush showily and she looked away, ashamed. "But you haven't replied my question yet, why were you observing me?"

"Oh, I—I had come to wake you up, breakfast's ready…", she gibbered. "But you were sleeping so intensively that I hesitated and I started gazing at you…", she finished, turning her back to him. "We should really go downstairs now, or else my sis will get upset..."

Netherlands had been already putting his shirt on. "Stay cool, we're going.", he patted her on her waist and preceded her on the way downwards. The springtime sun was already quite high in the sky; hereby he understood Joana had breakfast, apparently, later than he used to – and that's why he didn't feel tired at all, he surely had overslept his standards. The dark-haired girl was wordless and limited herself pointing up the direction, as she was still feeling embarrassed close to him.

"Oh, here you are!", Portugal exclaimed. "How long have you needed?", her voice was vexed.

"Ask your little sister", Netherlands explained, pulling out a chair. "It seems like she's afraid of me."

Brazil got nervous. "T-That's not true! I didn't want to disturb you!"

"It was a joke, sugar.", he chucked her tenderly. The schoolgirl sat down, turning red.

Joana sighed. "The essential is you're here now. Enjoy your meal. I didn't know what your usual morning menu is, so I prepared my normal one; I hope it's no problem for you."

Jasper stared at the table: three milk bowls, various tea cakes, vanilla biscuits and jam. It really was different from his breakfast; even if he sometimes ate honey cookies, he mostly preferred salty foods such as cheese, ham or eggs. However, he thanked her and served himself, taking one among the three bowls and some fancy cakes. He drank half of the milk out and munched the first biscuit, savoring it.

"Mmm, they're so yummy, Joana!", he admitted. "Did you bake them personally?"

"Of course I did!", she answered, dipping a biscuit into her milk. "I rarely bake them because I'm often in a hurry, but I did."

"You have a great talent, then.", the Dutchman spoke, chewing. "I'm really grateful you allowed me to taste them, it's worth the try.", he sweetly beamed at her.

The Portuguese woman could nothing but realize about how appealing he was when he didn't sulk or take the mickey out of somebody. His self-confidence, his ease, his bravery, his constancy hypnotized her. "Y-You're welcome.", she babbled, hiding her face into her bowl. "I did it with pleasure."

Half an hour later, after clearing away the dishes and inviting Brazil to go outside, Netherlands shared with Portugal his contract draft. It consisted of more than five pages, but the house owner wished to read it carefully through. Therefore, she leaned her elbow on the table, devouring the lines and mumbling every now and then. During this time, her guest fastened his eyes on her body. He was sure she preserved beautiful curves underneath those men clothes…

"In general, I agree.", she lifted her head up again. "There are just two or three spots I'd like to adjust. Here, here and here", she illustrated, pointing them out. "You see? Those are unacceptable!", she complained, gesticulating so much that she dropped some pieces. "Oh, meus Deus!", she panicked. "Sorry!", she bent down for taking them.

"Hey, no problem! Let me pick them up.", Jasper went down on his knees aswell.

Their hands met on the floor, their fingers crossed. Joana and Jasper froze in this position for a few seconds. Portugal's respiration accelerated, Holland felt his heart beating faster and faster. The young woman glanced at his shoulders and his torso, whereas he wavered on her thighs and her wrists. They finally exchanged a direct look before she stood up again. He grabbed the papers and posed them awkwardly on the table.

"I – I need some fresh air, now.", Netherlands shot out. In reality he was looking forward to a joint. Yesterday he had had none, and he couldn't postpone it any longer.

"You know where the garden is.", Joana replied, taking it easy. "I'll be… erm… training in the meanwhile. Take your time."

The Portuguese maiden actually didn't mean to train at all. Due to the early baking, she hadn't had the chance to replace her binding; in fact, in order to veil her breasts, she bound them up every single morning, before leaving. Considering Netherlands and Brazil were out, she ordered her domestic to bring her bandage into the dining-room. After checking over one last time if she was alone in the hall, she wore slowly her blouse off. The old wrap had already become loosed, hence she absolutely needed to change it. She tossed the pin which was blocking the knot of the precedent day and was about to open everything up as her sister suddenly ran into the locale.

"_Irmãzinha_, _irmazinhã_!"

Portugal moaned. "What's up now?"

Brazil was shivering. "T-That man… h-he's doing something bizarre…!"

"What?", the elder ran off without waiting for any answer. She knew he was way _too_ open-minded. And she could have expected whatever from him. "JASPER!", she shouted out loud, seeking him.

Holland was leaning upon a tree, his joint in his right hand, scrutinizing the sky. He heard his name and turned back to the front-door; his future cooperator was stomping towards him, her eyes flaming up. He waved stupidly at her, vaguely stoned already. She immediately noticed he was smoking pot. She stormed onto him and ripped his joint off.

"You idiot! What do you think you're doing?". She was so mad that she forgot she wasn't wearing any shirt and her bandage wasn't as stable as it normally was.

"Wow, Jo.", he said smirking. "Allow me to say you're well equipped…"

"Well equipped?", she repeated, as she didn't comprehend. "What are you tal—"

As soon as she understood the sense of his statement, she covered her boobs with her arms, smashing the joint away. "You kinky man! Where are you looking at? And who gave you the permission to call me 'Jo'?"

"Hey, my joint!", he cried out, ignoring her questions. "Why have you thrown it down?"

"So, you haven't eliminated this habit of yours, have you?"

"I could never abandon my grass.", Holland stated.

"Are you dumb?", she protested. "If you keep smoking so much, your health's going to worsen and worsen… you could risk your own life, don't you get it?"

"Oh…", the Dutchman declared, approaching to her and lifting her chin. "Are you worrying about me? I didn't know you cared about this Dutch boy…", in spite of his freak-out, he really meant it. Nobody, except for Belgium, had ever shown any interest for him and his physical conditions.

Portugal blushed evidently. "Not at all! It simply wouldn't be fun to sail around with no competitor.", she improvised. "Moreover, I don't want my little sister to get in touch with such vices! She's already turning alcohol-addicted because of me and my passion for wine…", she blamed herself. "If only I hadn't taught her how to distillate alcoholics…", she saddened.

Jasper didn't know what to say and, being still fuzzy, opted for hugging her tight; this obviously startled her. Since he was taller than her, her head stood directly against his chest, so that she could clearly hear his heart beat. This sound relaxed her, making her breathing more regular. She closed her eyes for a while and averted her arms from her tits. The fair-haired man looked down at her and touched her lips with his right index. Her dark-blue eyes were bewitching him. Nothing would distract him, he promised himself, he would steal a kiss from her.

A sudden crash frightened them and they both interrupted their spell. Brazil had stumbled onto the vase hosting the campanulas and she was gazing at the couple with her mouth broadly opened. Portugal stepped back and cleared her throat. "So… stop smoking. I beg you. At least till you're dwelling under my roof…", she jabbered, before heading into the house.

Netherlands groaned. "A courteous Miss like you shouldn't be peeping like that, Brazil."

"I-I wasn't peeping! I came out because it was taking so long and…"

"Okay, okay, I see.", Jasper cut it off. He was still disconcerted. Such an occasion as the one he had just missed wouldn't come up again that easily.


	5. Chapter 5

Holland joined Portugal some minutes later, still thinking of the embrace they had experienced together. He had never felt such a vibrating feeling in his soul. Even though he had slept with several women and had satisfied his lusts, when she was around his certainties vacillated. He had never believed in love at first sight, but now he was really afraid he was developing a passion for her. Perhaps, he assumed, it wasn't a real affection, perhaps he was only looking for the pleasure of hexing her, because she was a hard nut to crack… such emotions were new for him and he didn't know how to handle them!

Portugal was still putting on her blouse when he entered the hall. She glanced back at him and quickly terminated her buttoning. Her mind was still digesting what had happened, as she wasn't able to figure out her own reaction: instead of rejecting his enfolding, instead of slapping him, she had immobilized… because she was actually liking it! She wasn't minding at all to be hugged by him! What was occurring to her? Why was she so keen on him?

"I've just burnt all my grass up, as you requested.", Jasper debuted. "Such a renounce isn't going to be simple, but seeing I'm the guest here I'm supposed to obey you, ain't I?"

"Thank you.", she whispered. "It's very kind of you, Netherlands."

He scratched his head. "May I ask why you bind yourself up, Jo?"

"Don't use that nickname, I said!", she replied angrily. "It awakes bad memories…", she looked down.

"Bad memories? Which ones?"

"That's my problem, it doesn't concern you!", she overreacted.

He stepped forward and stopped behind her. "Come on, don't you trust me yet?"

Joana looked directly into his eyes and couldn't avoid blushing. He was extremely good-looking… and, whenever standing by her side, he gave her a strong sentiment of protection due to his brawniness. Though, shall she put faith in him, such a famous seducer as he was?

She sighed loudly. "It reminds me of my brother… of the age he used to respect me…", she prattled. "During our childhood, when we lived together, he called me always Jo. In his view, it sounded sweeter than my full name. I still recall how Spain found it out…", she smiled melancholically. "We were playing hide and seek, I was about to win. Suddenly, a cart appeared on the street I wanted to cross. In the very first moment I didn't notice it, therefore he screamed loud for warning me. Since I got aware of the danger in time, he didn't need to complete my name… and Jo emerged."

Netherlands laid his right hand on her left shoulder. "You love him, don't you?"

"Not anymore!", the Portuguese woman exclaimed. "He betrayed me."

"How do you mean this?"

"Oh, that's right", she said, rubbing her right cheek. "At that time you hadn't been enslaved yet… One day, I headed back home late at night; I had been exploring the surroundings, I had thirst for knowledge. As soon as I entered, I found him sitting on my bed, with his arms crossed and an enraged look. I was merry, I wanted to describe him everything I had discovered. But he spanked me. 'Don't you dare vanishing like that a second time', he said, 'you're a girl, women don't do such things, they have to stay home and wait for their father, their brother, their husband'. I obviously disagreed and talked back to him. He hit me on my face, explaining 'women are weak, men are the ones ruling the world'.", she sobbed. "And you know what the funniest thing is? Some months before he assured me we'd share equally our land, we'd always work together, we'd never fight. I understood the only solution was escaping and founding my own home. But even so he kept hassling me, by blackmailing me and sending troops."

The fair-haired man started playing with her wavy hair. "I see. And let me guess", he murmured. "You began training, battling, talking and wearing like a man in order to demonstrate you'd be better than him and women are precious, too, am I wrong?"

She was astounded: he had been able to picture her vengeance, her plan, her character in a moment! How was it possible? She was a labyrinth for her own cousins, France and Italy, but not for him! How strange… she had always had the conviction he wouldn't give a damn about others' feelings, though apparently she had been mistaking…! Netherlands wasn't as cold-hearted as he pretended to be.

"Y-You're right…", she stuttered. "That's the reason I've been hiding my sex for. I didn't want anyone to control me, I didn't want any man to lock me up; I wanted to stay free."

Jasper came closer to her and hugged her from behind. "What a pity…", he spoke softly into her ear. "That's an authentic wastage, you know…", he moved his hand slightly under her blouse. "You'd be so lovely, so beautiful, if you just put on some make-up or wear some slit skirt…"

After sensing his fingers on her abdomen and hearing his words, Joana turned red. She grabbed Netherlands' wrist and pulled it off her tummy. Unexpectedly, she felt two opposite desires: partly, mentally, she feared his attempt and she felt like running away from him in order to respect her original independence wish; and partly, emotionally, she liked his touching and couldn't wait for more, for she felt horribly attracted by him. Shaking her head and shielding herself with both hands, the Portuguese maid desperately dug into her brain, hoping to find a good excuse. Time came rescuing her: her cuckoo clock alerted it was midday.

"Oh, meus Deus!", she stated, fiddling with her earring. "I'd better go preparing our lunch, dried cod balls cannot be made in a hurry.", she walked towards the kitchen. "It should be okay; you like fish, too, don't you?"

"You're talking to the haring master, Joana!", he smirked. "Of course I do."

"Well, then. At the very end, we have something in common.", she stated wittily.

"You'd learn we have plenty of similarities, if we got cozy to each other…"

Portugal coughed, embarrassed. "Y-You could take a bath in the meanwhile, what about it?", she changed the topic. "My sister could show you the way – but be careful, we use to wash with piping hot water."

She left the hall without looking at him one last time. She wasn't sure she would master her actions, if he kept playing sensually; indeed, as soon as he had touched her, a shiver of blissfulness had crossed her back. And, she didn't know why, as soon as he had pushed his mouth nearer to her ear, she had yearned him to lick her neck. Was she falling in love with him? She tried to decline such thoughts whilst she was cooking.

At the same time, Netherlands had gone looking for Brazil and, after finding her, had been led to the bathroom. He looked around in wonder: the light-blue tiles with landscape drawings were lightening the room up, the white shelves were perfectly dusted and the steely bathtub was finely decorated with inscriptions of famous Portuguese writers' quotes. The window was, still, quite small, so that the bath-taker needed to open the door also in order to let the air circulate.

"I'm bringing you the boiling water in some vats.", Brazil offered. "I'll be right back!"

Jasper didn't reply and followed her with his eyes till she was out of his sight. He stared at his own image in the mirror for some seconds and then started to get slowly undressed. He piled his clothes up on the floor and profited of the wait for checking up his scars. He happily noticed they were finally healed.

"Here I am, Ne—", Brazil stepped in, dropping one of the buckets she was carrying. She covered her eyes with her left hand and kept holding the second container with the other. "S-Sorry! I didn't know you were unclothed!"

The Dutchman laughed, snatching a towel and winding it around his hips. "Haven't you ever seen a nude man, Brazil?", he came closer to her and pulled her hand off her eyes. "Settle down, I've just wrapped it."

"A-Actually, never.", the girl babbled, unclosing her eyelids. "I've no male friends. And my siblings, Portugal's, are only female."

"I see.", Jasper took the buckets up and poured the hot water into the tub. "But you're turning older, you're a teenager, you should get in touch with boys. We're no monsters, you know.", he joked, grinning at her.

Brazil played with her curls for a while before answering. "Y-Yeah, I guess that's correct."

He tipped into the water to check the temperature out. "Holy cow, Joana was right, you do bath warm!", he complained. "However, don't you worry, you'll surely be into boys quite soon. It's normal around your age. And boys won't deceive you, they're going to please you in all ways possible."

"Oh, I-I have no doubts.", Brazil said, gazing at his muscular legs.

"You'd better move out now, I'm lowering down."

"S-Sure!"

The schoolgirl left the bathroom, but instead of going away, she snuggled down next to the door, hiding herself. She absolutely wanted to see his body one more time, with no screening. She stared at him removing the towel and posing it on the washbasin, stepping over the tub and lying back into it. She blushed, watching him feverishly; her sudden wish was to lie in his sturdy arms, to feel his manly hands over her skin… and she didn't know why. His well-built back was calling her, as much as his ash-blond hair she would have loved to scent. She had heard, of course, about the term intercourse, but her sister had never wanted to give her more precise explanations: she only knew a man and a woman were supposed to cuddle together, in some way. She felt ashamed as she realized she would gladly spend some time alone with Holland. Shaking her head, she stood up and looked for a reason, _any_ reason, which could force her into entering the room again. Unfortunately, she could find none; therefore she resigned and sat down again, peeking every now and then.

"BRAZIL! Could you please lay the table?"

The dark-haired maiden heard her sister calling. Moaning, she stood up. She wondered why on earth she had been colonized by Portugal, a woman, and not by that charming guy. She would have liked to set back the time, in order to meet him before and go living in his country.


	6. Chapter 6

After shampooing his hair, Netherlands leaned both arms onto the bathtub edges and began staring intensely at the ceiling, thinking about himself and his life. He had always been a loner, an outsider; he wasn't even able to get along properly with his cousins, England, Germany, Denmark, and Sweden, and the only person who had accepted his spirit so far was his sister Belgium. His natural tendency towards liberty had brought him to disregard any bond and to travel all around the world, without any determined goal, without building up any serious relationship, craving for money and fame. And every time he had come back, even if Anneke had been supporting him and his cause, he had never felt like being at home. He rested in there for a little time, but he shortly left again, unsatisfied. On the contrary, now, in Joana's abode, this hunger wasn't showing up at all: he had the impression he would be complete and fulfilled, he would live in a recreated Eden, he would need nothing more than her shelter; he had the impression he innerly desired Portugal to never clear up her mind, so that he could stay beside her forever.

"How odd.", he mumbled. "Could this mean I'm… in love?"

He got out and started drying summarily his body. It actually was the first time he was attracted not only by a woman's attributes, but by her voice, her manners, her scent, her eyes. The Portuguese maid wasn't the expert mariner and the commercial rival only, no, not any longer, she had turned into his secret aspiration. In her presence, he wasn't able to act logical and rational.

"Oh, yeah…", he murmured, putting his trousers on. "I'm afraid I am."

"NETHERLANDS!", Portugal's voice reverberated. "Move your butt, we're waiting for you!"

"Coming!", he exclaimed, inserting his arms into the sleeves, but leaving his vest open. He closed the window and shut the door behind himself. "…but if I really am…", he kept reflecting on his sentiment, "…how am I supposed to tell her?". He footed slowly down the stairs. "It's such a mess to show one's feelings… I've never done it. Neither in front of Anneke."

As soon as he arrived, he noticed the two girls were already sitting, opposite to each other. There was a strange silence between them. Brazil's look was fixed on her napkin, whereas Joana was arranging some flowers into a glass, heart-shaped pot. Jasper pulled out his chair and sat down, before remarking the schoolgirl's left cheek was scarlet.

"Have I missed something?", he nervously asked.

"Nothing important, really.", Portugal coldly replied. "Let's eat now."

She didn't want to discuss about what had just happened. Since her sister was employing too much time to come, she had moved upstairs personally in order to check out what she was doing; and in this way, she had found her right beside the bathroom door. She hadn't commented her indecent conduct straight away, she had shoved her into the dining-room and slapped her. This wasn't the upbringing she had been applying on her, Portugal had screamed, she shouldn't become a whore, a voyeur, a pervert, or whatever; she shouldn't weaken after the very first man, she should keep her innocence and her well-being for her very first love. Brazil hadn't reacted, although she would have liked to say she hated her for being so strict and for forbidding her to encounter guys even if this was her necessity.

Holland tried to break the stillness. "Do we have any plans for this afternoon?"

"My sister and I do.", Joana answered, flinging her fringe apart. "We're revising geography and history."

"No, please!", Brazil finally spoke again.

"I've told you a lot of times how essential it is for you to study these two, such subjects aren't less significant than music or literature. I don't want you to be educated like a wild beast."

"But those are so boring, sister!"

"Boring?", Jasper broke into the dialogue. "You don't know what you're talking about, do you?"

"Why?", the younger girl asked, looking at his chest.

"History and geography are the most intriguing themes ever, dear. You probably haven't understood yet how to deal with them.", he said, before addressing his host. "I could eventually help her at learning, I know a infallible method.", he grinned.

The Portuguese woman cleaned her mouth with her napkin. "I've no objections…"

Some minutes later, the three moved into the sitting room. Brazil had already taken her atlas and her history anthology and sat down on the sofa. Portugal was standing next to the bookshelves, her eyes on her little sister individuating where her bookmarks were and opening the books. Holland sat down on the couch aswell and glanced at the map portrayed on the page.

"Oh, Indonesia! That's quite my cup of tea."

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you to explain her, Jasper? You're not compelled to.", Portugal said.

He looked up at her, smiling. "I am, don't you worry. I wanna be helpful for you.", he winked, hoping to be clear enough.

The older girl turned immediately red and leaned against the wall, moving her eyes from the lamp to the carpet. In the meanwhile, he had already started entertaining his pupil. He wasn't listing capitals, rivers, peaks, races as Portugal used to, he was narrating how the brooks smelled, how the hills and the mountains looked like, what the people ate and did. It sounded a lot like a beautiful fable, a sort of a mysterious myth, and not like a never-ending lesson. Brazil, who had come closer to him and was now sitting on his knees, didn't miss one word of his description. It was way more exciting to hear his tales, the Brazilian girl thought, feeling his breathing on her neck and his arms surrounding her, than to observe Portugal's schemas and repeat them out loud. Joana, on the other hand, couldn't help but think he'd be a great father. It wouldn't be that bad to set up a family with him, she imagined for a moment, she would be proud to be his wife. Realizing what she had just said to herself, she blushed violently and turned her back to the others.

"W-Well…", she interrupted his stories. "Since I'm useless in here, I guess I'll be training a bit. If you need me, I'm in the gym."

She turned on the lights in her training hall and put off her blouse, posing it on the wallbars. After getting closer to her punching-ball, she started hitting it five, ten, twelve times, while her thoughts kept flowing ferally in her head. She didn't know why, but Netherlands' face germinated in every corner of her mind. The sensations she felt when he stood beside her were inexpressible… unexpectedly, she didn't feel ill-at-ease like in front of every other man; oppositely, she felt like she could be fully herself, without masking her nature and without being misunderstood: he seemed to appreciate her for what she was. And she was so happy when he was there.

"Is this love?", she wondered, stopping his fists for a while.

A creak quieted her down. She turned back at the door and saw Holland coming in.

"We're done", this one stated. "She doesn't remember every single detail, but I guess she absorbed most of the notions. She's in her bedroom now, writing down my notes."

"That's impressive", she said, stunned. "I've never got her into those subjects…"

Netherlands grinned. "I know how to motivate others."

"This is for sure. Thank you again.", she gibbered. "Anyway, I haven't terminated my exercises yet… and there's still some time before supper. You could take a sight-seeing tour of Lisbon, would you like to?"

"Oh, not really.", Jasper replied, looking at her breast. "I'd rather stay and watch you training, if I may."

"As you wish."

Joana was going on by doing some sit-ups, when he suddenly addressed her once more. "Hey, what about a short duel? No weapon allowed, of course. Just my strength, and yours. It'd be fun."

She gazed at him, taking up the defensive. "I don't think that's a great idea, I—"

"Do you fear me that much?"

"What are you saying?", she scolded him. "I've no fright at all. I know I'm stronger than you."

"Come on, demonstrate it then."

The two engaged a fight, which wasn't as brief as the Dutchman had wanted it to be. Indeed, his strikes were extremely powerful, but she was considerably fast, so that she could dodge them. Portugal was able to hit her opponent a couple of times and due to this Jasper lost his balance; she obviously profited of this, hopped onto him and knocked him to the ground, grabbing his wrists.

"Are you still underestimating me?", she asked, looking into his eyes.

"I have never done.", he answered. "You're so splendid."

"W-What t—", she wasn't able to finish her sentence, because Jasper sat up and kissed her on her lips all of a sudden. She was so shocked that her only reaction was gaping at him.

"You're special for me, Joana…", he affirmed, holding her hips and kissing her neck.

She moaned with pleasure, but then slid backwards. "D-Don't, Jasper…"

He opened his eyes wide, somewhat dazed. "Don't you like me?"

She blushed. "I—I do… but…", she looked away. "I—I'm still a virgin, you know… and I—I…"

"Shh, honey.", the Dutchman exhorted her, caressing her hair. "Tonight."

"T-Tonight…", she repeated, with shaking voice.

Heading back into her bedroom, she sat in front of her wall mirror. Yeah, she realized, she was definitely in love with him. She had just received a soft kiss from him, but she was looking forward to his French kiss; she had just felt his lips on her neckline, but she was looking forward to their sloping down on her shoulders, her arms and her lap. And, despite her nervousness, she couldn't wait to become his. She remembered his words… 'You'd be so beautiful if you didn't hide your womanliness, if you put on some make-up'…

She stood up, opened her wardrobe and pulled out a big, scotched carton lying on its bottom. After tearing the tape apart and blowing the dust away, she bent down and took out the content: a leather beauty-case, a bodice and some dresses. She selected a light red one and lined it up to her body. Nodding, Joana chortled. It wouldn't be simple to wear such feminine clothes again, she presumed, an eternity had passed since the last time she had used them… though she would be as perfect as possible for the first man she had ever loved, no matter how long she would need for getting ready.


	7. Chapter 7

Joana put her beauty-case on her desk, tinkering inside it, looking for the eye-shadows casket. Once found and opened it, she stared busily at the different colors, searching among them the right shading which would match up with her robe. At the very end she opted for combining red and orange, toning down the first one with the second. She took up the little brush and started applying the eye-shadow on her eyelid, with extreme slowness. She grimaced face to an unsatisfying result and, after removing the powder, she tried a second time, successfully.

"Gosh, I should warn my cooks, they need to prepare the dinner… I cannot!"

She rushed downstairs, but didn't notice her sister poking out of her room; Brazil didn't oversee her make-up and understood something was going on. Suddenly, as soon as she realized Portugal's new look probably wasn't casual, a virulent feeling stormed through her body, a feeling she had never suffered from: jealousy. The image of her sister being kissed by _her_ Netherlands popped up in her mind, irritating her. She wouldn't sit on her hands, she needed a project. She vanished, slamming the door behind her.

"Okay, that's disposed.", the Portuguese woman talked to herself, coming back into her bedroom.

She got leisurely naked, abandoning her trousers, her boots and her shirt on the floor. After getting closer to the mirror, she watched her body for a few minutes. She was surprised at remarking that, after all, she wasn't as ugly as she had always reputed; sure, her biceps and quadriceps weren't as harmonic as other women's due to her constant training, though her general appearance was good. Smiling, her thoughts flew back to Jasper and his body and she unexpectedly wondered how their two physiques would unite. Blushing, she took her bodice and put it on; how weird, she thought, in spite of its skinniness it wasn't that uncomfortable; on the contrary, her breasts was finely propped up. She finally wore on her dress.

"Not bad…", she commented. "I just need high-heels shoes and some jewelry…"

She grasped the only pair of high-heels shoes she had kept and put her feet in. It was incredibly hard to walk with these, especially after decades of using boots exclusively. She stepped leftwards and rightwards in order to practice a bit and to find her equilibrium. At the very end, she combed her hair, perfumed her shoulders and her neck, and slipped her left hand into her favorite bracelet.

"I'm ready.", Joana stated. "And hopefully attractive enough for him…"

Jasper had been called by Portugal's servers and was already sitting in the refectory. Brazil was at his side, her hair gathered up in a braid and wearing a very short skirt. He had no suspicion concerning such a change, he even didn't waste any time staring at her. But, as soon as the house-owner entered, he couldn't avoid gaping: she was marvelous. He hadn't expected her to listen to his wish, he had believed she wouldn't fancy herself up just for his pleasure. Her surprise filled him with joy, and excitement, of course. Holland didn't taste his meal at all, he was yearning for the up-coming night, so much that his eyes were set on his love the whole time long.

"Netherlands!", Brazil cried suddenly out, after everyone had eaten. "I'd like to show you something!"

He turned perplex to her. "Show me something? What?"

"Oh, please, please! It's important!", she flashed up to him and started gripping his vest.

"Where is that?", he sighed.

"In my bedroom! Don't worry, it won't take long!"

Jasper stood up and glanced lustfully at Portugal. "…wait for me, Jo."

This last one turned red. "N-No problem, I will."

The Brazilian girl grabbed the Dutchman on his right wrist and dragged him the entire way to her room. She jostled him inside and shut the door. Then, she sat on her bed, staring at him with a licentious look and crossing her legs several times. He looked back puzzled at her.

"So what? Where's the stuff?"

"Why are you in such a hurry?", she asked with a seducing voice, pulling slightly down the collar of her shirt.

He crossed impatiently his arms. "I don't wanna play with you, sugar. Show me whatever you wish and then let me out."

"Okay, then.", she groaned, stretching herself to the other part of the bed, where her desk was. "I distillated my favorite beverage this afternoon and I'd like you to give me your sincere opinion about it.", she held him a glass out.

"Yeah, I could give it a try.", he took the drink in his hand and, after looking at the infusion, he swallowed it down. "Mmm, it has an unusual taste, but I admit it's not bad at all."

"It stems from the berries of my country", she explained, exposing her breast as much as possible. "Come on, get yourself one glass more, it won't endamage you."

"All right, but not more than one.", he said, serving himself. "It's quite strong."

"Oh, it's no tragedy if you get boozed, is it? Or shall I believe you dislike it?", she squealed.

"I've just told you it tastes fine.", he repeated, going on drinking.

Two, three, four, five glasses. Or even some more? Jasper had forgot to count them. He needed to sit on Brazil's bed, because he couldn't stand anymore; his sight had turned a little dim and he was getting a slight headache. He felt like he couldn't control his own actions any longer. The girl obviously profited of his condition and came closer to him, holding his hand and snuggling up to him. Her task was achieved.

"Netherlands…", she whispered, caressing his neck. "You know, I've been reflecting about your words… about boys…"

"Have you?", he laughed. "And?"

"You were right… I'm interested in men.", she pulled her skirt up to its limit.

"Are you referring to me, sweetie?", he grinned.

"Oh, I'd so love to understand what hides behind the word intercourse…", she murmured. "It'd be great If you could help me…", she flirted.

"Oh, Brazil", he replied, looking into her eyes. "Ain't I too old for you?"

"That's it.", she pretended she would be offended and about to stand up. "I knew you would be no good teacher. You're probably afraid of failing…"

Such a provocation couldn't be overheard by Holland, in such a drunken state as he was.

"What?", he spoke. "I never fail with women. Let me show you.", he added, grabbing her back and moving onto her.

"Don't disappoint me…", she moaned.

"I won't…", he said, licking her neck. "But be aware, I won't contain myself…"

Portugal, in the meantime, was gradually getting worried. More than twenty minutes had already passed and she feared something serious could have happened. She loaded the dishwasher up and then stepped towards the stairs. It was extremely painful to proceed with high heels, but she tried to do it as quick as she was able to.

"Aaah!"

That was doubtlessly her sis' voice, Joana realized, she had been hurt! She wore off her shoes, left them on the step and accelerated. Had she fainted? Had she been injured? Had she fallen down? The Portuguese maiden had grown attached to her and wanted her best. As soon as she arrived in front of her door, she opened it wide, panting.

"What's going on, Bra—"

She suspended her sentence and got frozen. Before her eyes there were Netherlands and Brazil, having sex. She was under him, grabbing his back with her nails, completely sweaty. Jasper turned towards the new-come, smirking.

"Oh, Jo", his voice was exalted. "Wanna join us? There's enough place for three…"

She brought her right hand in front of her trembling lips, while some tears began sloping down her cheeks. Everything he had been telling her, everything he had been doing for her, every smile, every favor had been false! She meant nothing to him: he had just wished to possess her for a single night, to use her for his own lust, like he had done with thousands women before. The love story she had been dreaming of was nothing but a mere delusion.

She drew back, quivering. "I—I HATE YOU!", she shouted, leaving the room.

Portugal started sobbing loudly, sheltering herself in her room. Getting on her knees, she hid her face into her hands and went on crying for a long while. Her tongue formulated words without letting her notice it: 'liar', 'cheater', 'asshole', among the many ones. Such a dummy she had been! She had trusted him, although she was conscious of his reputation! She stood up in rage and tore her dress apart, ripping it in rough pieces, before smashing her beauty-case on the floor.

"And Brazil… why has she done this…?", she babbled.

She leaned both hands on her writing desk and closed her eyes for a while, breathing deep. Beyond the walls she was still able to hear the two lovers sighing and wailing with pleasure. She tried to stop her ears with both hands, shaking her head. Banging her fists on her belly, she opened up her eyes again and stared into the large mirror.

"All this make-up… all my preparation… in vain!", she murmured.

She desired to cancel every trace of her weakening. She gazed at her eye-shadow and immediately wished to take it off her face. Her left hand lifted up and rubbed energetically her left eye; unfortunately, she forgot she was still wearing her bracelet.

"Ah!", she shouted, feeling a sudden pain on her eye and closing it.

Some seconds later, Portugal opened it again and remarked she had scratched herself: it was a deep, bleeding cut she had caused herself with her arm ornament. It wouldn't cicatrize that easily, since it was a delicate, always-moving zone… and if it had done, a scar would have remained. The permanent sign she had bent in front of a man. She stiffened her fists in rage and went to bed, without even binding the wound.

It was the hardest night of her life.

**Note:**

**Netherlands' coupling with Brazil in this chapter represents the Dutch invasion of some Brazilian regions during the XVIII century.**


	8. Chapter 8

"Oww…"

Jasper woke suddenly up, feeling an intense nausea. He smoothly opened up his eyes, holding his left temple with the corresponding hand. As soon as he remarked he was about to throw up, he tried to sit up and get a recipient of any sort; but, his condition being considerably deplorable, he couldn't control his stomach any longer and, before even noticing it, he had inclined his trunk and vomited on the floor.

"…holy shit…"

Netherlands brought his right hand to his tummy and swallowed several times in the attempt of eliminating the sour aftertaste in his throat. His breathing turning gradually back to normal, he reclined his head back and closed his eyes for attenuating the disturbances he was sensing. After a couple of minutes he intended to stretch his limbs, but, since the very first moves, he wasn't properly able to, because every single muscle of his was terribly hurting. He sighed, still exhausted. By turning his neck aside, he saw his clothes and Brazil's randomly distributed on the furniture.

"…what the…?"

The young man couldn't remember exactly what had been going on in the latest hours; he knew he had been invited by Portugal's sister and he knew he had consumed her special drink… but, apart from this, nothing at all. He moved his eyes downwards and started wondering about the bedspread he had slept on. How richly bizarre, he thought, as far as he recalled, Portugal had set bluish blankets for him, and no yellow ones… Skimming the bed surface with his fingers, he met, all of a sudden, something warm. Astonished, he realized it was human flesh. Sloping upwards his look, he found out that he was lying next to the Brazilian maid.

"NO WAY!", he exclaimed, in spite of his being sick.

His co-sleeper was obviously frightened during her rest by his unexpected scream: she immediately flashed up and gazed at him interrogatively; by doing this, her cover slipped down and unveiled her both breasts, nevertheless she didn't seem to care about it. She dragged herself closer to Holland, hugged him tight and hid her face under his neck.

"Oh, Jasper… that was wonderful… I've never felt livelier before…"

He smashed her away, still traumatized. "What are you saying?"

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten everything!", she smirked. "We spent such an agreeable night together, Jasper…", she continued, caressing his chest. "I became yours, and you became mine…"

These memories floated back into his mind via tormenting splinters. She was right: he had been gotten drunk, he had been provoked and he had fallen into the trap, like a rookie!, by possessing her wildly. He glommed. He had even had pleasure while subduing that schoolgirl! He had liked the idea of seizing such a young virgin and had felt turned on by her unripe body!

"Sex with you is fabulous…", Brazil went on talking, staring indecently at his pelvis. "You're a real stallion… I don't get why my sist—"

"JOANA!", he yelled, opening his eyes wide and smacking Brazil back.

He stood up as fast as he could, grabbing his pants and his trousers. He was shivering: the image of Portugal standing in front of the door, weeping, swaying whilst running away, had just popped up in his brain. He ignored his shirt lying on the floor and put his shoes on. He had no time to waste. He needed to apologize, to explain, he didn't want to lose her, the first woman he had ever fallen in love with! He slammed the door open and ran off to Portugal's bedroom. Wheezing, he relived the whole scene, the whole words he had pronounced hardheartedly. Precisely like his cousin Germany, once boozed his rationality vanished and his bestial side prevailed.

"Jo!", he called, entering her room.

Still panting, he stepped in. Nobody was in there, but everything was screwed up: the dress she had worn the precedent night was torn off, lying on the ground, whereas make-up bottles and pots were abandoned, in pieces, on the desk. His eyes wandered here and there, commiserating their owner. Something shiny stroke him and he bowed down to pick it up; it was her golden bracelet, the one she had inherited from her grandfather, Rome. He stunned as soon as he saw blood traces on it.

"Jo, where are you?", he asked, worried, after posing the adornment on her desk.

The Dutchman left the room and, assuming his beloved one could be snacking, moved downstairs in order to reach the dinner hall. The entire building was still obscure, in spite of the fact it was eight o' clock, because no light was on. He didn't like such an atmosphere in her house, which was usually bright and cheerful, gloom fitting more North European countries like his. He pulled the narrow door of the refectory and butted in: both windows were utterly open and he couldn't but frisson since he was wearing nothing on his torso.

"Here comes the grand playboy."

Netherlands turned his head to the source of the voice, which was doubtlessly hers. He slid nearer, but couldn't see her, as she was sitting in the dark.

"Jo! Finally! I—"

"No need to talk, Netherlands. I got it myself.", she sounded cynical. "Have breakfast. You must be surely dog-tired after such a heavy working night."

He gasped, remarking immediately she wasn't addressing him as 'Jasper' anymore and her tune was incredibly compassionless.

"Jo, I need to explain you, I—"

"Don't even think on it. I need no elucidations. The situation is rather clear."

Holland walked forward. "That's insane! Please, listen to me!"

She laughed sarcastically, crossing her legs. "Okay, let's have party-time. Come on, shoot it off."

"Brazil… she… she got me drunk and…"

"Oh, my, oh, my!", Portugal giggled. "That's the oldest excuse I've heard of. Seems like every man uses it after betraying his woman."

"That's no excuse!", Jasper shouted. "I'm not lying! Your sister wanted me to taste her Brazilian distillate till the very last glass and I—"

"And, let me guess…", she said, moving her right index in front of her mouth, in a thoughtful pose. "She began acting sexy before your eyes, stripping, flirting, whatever, and you couldn't resist, am I wrong?"

"Brazil flamed me up! She stated I wouldn't be able to show her what sexual intercourse is and…"

"…and you evidently couldn't accept such an insult to your manliness, right, Netherlands?"

He looked down and didn't reply at all.

"You see? That's how the world goes.", the Portuguese stood up, turning him the back and gesticulating. "A woman falls in love with a man, she thinks he's the one, she'd be prepared to anything for him, she'd even renounce to her own freedom… and the man chases after her, courts her, pushes her into bed, has orgasm and disappears, hunting a new babe."

"Jo, that's not true! Plea—"

"Don't even talk back, Netherlands. And don't you dare call me 'Jo' any minute more.", she interrupted him, stomping on the floor. "My sis was appetizing, wasn't she? Such a delicate flower as she was. Such a juvenile mare as she was. Your cock guided you correctly, by selecting her instead of me."

"Joana!", Jasper cried out. "I know I mistook, I know I was a prick, but—"

"I'm so glad I belong to the feminine gender! We don't reason with our boobs, at least."

"Portugal!", he grasped her left arm and pulled her to himself, under the sunlight. By this, his attention was caught by the long cut disfiguring her left eye. "W-What is that?", he stuttered.

She tore her arm off his grab and grinned evilly. "Nothing you should worry about. It's just the permanent token I was about to concede myself to a man… about to throw my independence off just out of a stupid sentiment called love.", she chortled. "That's a great score, you know. With such a scar, I am going to have no hesitations, no uncertainties. And no other man is ever going to desire me. I'm going to be protected forever."

Jasper held her right hand and brought it onto his heart. "Joana… I don't wanna lose you!"

She glanced cruelly at him, directly into his eyes. "Oh… I'm so sorry…", she murmured. "But I'm afraid that's just the case, dear.", she jostled him back so violently that he risked to fall down. "You should have been wiser. I'm no doll you can play with and toss some seconds later."

His eyes were scorching with rage. "You cannot reject me like that! We're destined to—"

"Destined? Destiny doesn't exist.", she laughed. "And, concerning our contract…", she took the papers out of her right trousers pocket. "I decided.", she smiled and began ripping the document in little spots. "You'd better get ready, you're fighting alone."

Jasper snatched her from behind and embraced her tight. "I don't care about the battle! I don't care if I'm going to turn deaf, blind, mute, mutilated, paralyzed! As long as you stay beside me, I'd accept any future! Because ik hou van jou!"

Joana closed her eyes for an instant and breathed deep. She had been waiting for those words, she had expected him to hold her in his strong arms during the night, to conduce her until the seventh heaven, to share everything with her and to tell her how much she was important for him, how much he was loving her. Now, it was too late.

"Die, bastard!", she screamed, pushing him apart. "Fuck all the women you want, but you won't have me, not any longer! You won't hex me with sugary words!", she stepped towards the entrance door.

"Joana, don't!", the Dutch boy exhorted her. "Even if I'll probably look pathetic, I do love you, I do, and I cannot imagine my life without you!", he tried to run after Portugal for stopping her.

"You'd rather expose your virility again, Netherlands. It's full of women outside; you might be lucky and find some hot ones. Who knows, perhaps they will help you combating after being ridden."

"Jo—"

"There's no way back. Leave this house. I don't wanna see your face around anymore.", she stated, slamming the door.

Holland sat down on the closest chair, holding his forehead with his right hand. He desperately understood he had burnt up his first, true love.


	9. Chapter 9

Joana couldn't leave the corridor at once, her legs being somehow weak. She leaned against the wall, breathing hysterically. Even though she could maintain her self-control quite well and mask her real feelings, it hadn't been easy, for her, to hold back the tears. She would have preferred to pour all her hate, all her disappointment, all her blame into his face, through ruthless words; or, alternatively, to punch him various times, until his total faintness. But such a behavior, she had whispered to her own ego, would mean nothing but a confirmation of her sentiments; and she didn't want him to realize she was still in love and heart-broken.

"_Irmã_!"

Portugal turned her head rightwards and noticed her younger sister approaching. This one wasn't actually wearing any clothes: her hair being still unbrushed, she was walking towards the elder girl covering her naked body with a blanket only. She suddenly stopped a few meters away, remarking the Portuguese's rancorous look.

"W-Where is he…?", she asked, trying to dissimulate her interest.

"In the dining-room. You may say good-bye, he's not going to stay.", was Jo's cold reply.

"Say good-bye? Not going to stay?", Brazil repeated, confused. "How do you mean that?"

"Not here.", her interlocutor stated, moving towards the stairs. "In the sitting-room."

The schoolgirl glommed at first, but then nodded. She followed silently her older sister, being aware there would be no pleasant speech from her part; never had she seen such a grudging Portugal since she dwelled in her manor. Her deeds hadn't been, indeed, the most innocent ones and she knew she had spent the night with her sis' darling; nonetheless, she wasn't able to understand such an exaggerate reaction. Netherlands had certainly explained her he didn't mean to, she thought, he had doubtlessly told her he had been got drunk: thus, why refusing him the forgiveness? Why renouncing to that handsome man? She was still wondering, but got suddenly distracted by the sudden noise of a slammed door.

"Move in.", Portugal ordered.

Holding her sheet tight, the younger maiden advanced into the locale. "Tell me now!", she cried out.

"There's not much to argue about. He's leaving in a few minutes."

"What?", Brazil panicked. "Why? He was enjoying his vacation!"

"That would be hard to misbelieve…", Joana smirked. "You two have gotten along quite fine."

"Is it only because you're jealous?"

The Portuguese slapped her on her left cheek. "Don't you dare! He only came for an offer, for having me as his ally versus England and France! And…"

"…apparently you weren't enough for him, since he decided to enter me!"

Portugal opened her eyes wide and couldn't reply promptly.

"Yeah, that's the reason you've never allowed me to meet men for! You knew nobody would even glance at you if I were around! You have no femininity, no grace! And no man would even think of laying you down onto his bed!"

"Shut up!", Joana burst out, grabbing the layer from her hands. "Do you really consider your body to be so well-shaped? You still have infantile curves no guy would look at!"

"Sure, but my infantile, clear-to-see curves will always be better than those you constantly hide underneath your bandages and your large attire!"

Portugal lowered her look, staring for a few seconds at her bound breast and at the untight trousers screening her backside. She imperceptibly sighed, partly due to the fact her adoptive sister was right, and partly because she absolutely needed to calm down.

"You'd better say good-bye to him, Brazil. He won't visit us a second time."

"You're such an egoistic person! You just want to get your revenge on us!"

"I just want to protect you, Brazil!", Joana shouted. "He cheated on me for having you, but someday he could cheat on you for having another woman and I don't want you to suffer!"

"As long as he returns into my bed, I don't care!", the Brazilian girl answered. "I don't need him to be my exclusive. I am not as possessive as you are."

"Y-You don't love him?", Portugal gibbered.

"Loving him? I obviously don't. How could I? He doesn't give a damn about my being and I don't like your European habits.", she laughed. "But he's so fabulous under the coverlet…"

"That's not what I've been teaching you, Brazil!"

"I don't want to end up like you, _irmã_. Lonely. Why should I fall in love with a man for having some pleasure with him? That's non-sense. I should stand his defects and his bothering. With my method, only the juicy fruit is eaten and no rotten one."

"Go away."

"What?"

"Go away.", the Portuguese woman depressively repeated. "If that's your life-style, if a woman is only a man's fun and vice versa, if love's just an insane and non-profit-giving desire, well, you may head back home. I don't wish such a sister. Take your independence back."

Brazil stiffened her fists. "So, it's a shame for you to have a sis like me? You're rejecting me?"

"I am."

"You'll regret that, _irmã_!", she stepped quickly towards the door. "One day I'll be grander than you!"

"The grander you become, the more perilous your life becomes… don't forget my words."

"At least I won't waste my youth years as you're doing, Portugal!", she added, running away.

Joana sobbed for a short while. She felt like she was a total loser. She had employed all her resources for educating her sisters Angola, Mozambique, Goa and Brazil… she wanted them to be self-confident, responsible and competent, so that no man would ever rule them… but Brazil evidently misunderstood her words. Dropping herself on the floor, hiding her visage into her left hand, she recalled all the time she had spent with her youngest sister; she had wanted her to grow up beside her, like Angola, Mozambique and Goa had done. Unfortunately, she admitted, her hopes had been broken.

"Laten we gaan!"

Netherlands' voice echoed from outside, smashing Portugal into the present again. She turned her head towards the sound source and rubbed her eyes for drying the tears. She slowly stood up and footed to the window, opening it cautiously. She jutted out and eyed at Jasper: he was giving instructions to his crew, plus gathering his suitcases. Although his sentences expressed a certain authority, his look was quite sad. His sailors carried most of the baggage onto the deck, whereas he remained aside for a little time, watching the clouds decorating the morning sky. Off to Holland again, he spoke to himself, his motherland. But he would be so lonesome. His heart would rather stay, in spite of Joana's intimation.

Jasper was about to get on his vessel, as he unexpectedly felt watched; moving his green eyes in all directions, Portugal, still standing at the window, caught his attention. He couldn't avert gaping at her, waiting for any signal, any movement allowing him to rush back into her mansion. Though, as soon as the woman crossed his gaze, she closed the window and disappeared. Lowering his eye-lids and sighing, the Dutchman comprehended there was no excuse permitting him to procrastinate his departure. Turning his back to Joana's house, he sailed off, ignoring completely his seamen.

He locked himself up in his cabin and sat down on his bed, breathing hard. He passed his right hand several times through his spiky hair, swallowing loudly. All of a sudden, he stood back on his feet and boosted all his maps on the floor, in rage.

"Goddammit!", he yelled. "I'm such a cretin!", he began fisting against the wooden partitions. "I have fallen in love with her, I really have, and what have I done? I've ruined everything, for I was bamboozled like a kid!"

He grinded his teeth, angrier and angrier. "I had had the presentiment something fishy was going on. But even so, I was so retarded that I couldn't prevent myself from getting drunk!", his eyes were turning watery and bloody. "And I possessed her sister! Bloody hell!", he smashed his left fist aggressively on his desk.

He leaned himself in front of the mirror and looked straight into his image. His mind flew back to Joana's scar. He started quivering. "It's…it's my fault…", he babbled. "I disfigured her wonderful face…", he figured out how she could have wounded herself, probably by a brusque move she had designed still wearing her bracelet. "I betrayed her expectative, her faith in ME!", Netherlands screamed, hitting the glass with his left elbow. Some pieces landed next to his right hand, some others on the floor.

"I wanted her to love me, to become my woman!", he stated, still shocked. "I felt so greatly beside her, I needed nothing more than her!", he kicked the globe on his right side, which fell down with a sharp crash. He sobbed, pushing his nails into the palm flesh. "But I messed up everything…"

He felt dizzy for a short while but looked then, resolute, at the broken mirror.

"A proof. Yeah, that's what would be useful. The entire world will know I do love her and I desire to be her one.", he declared. "That's how I'll never forget my mistake, that's how I'll swear my feelings for Jo, that's how we'll be linked to each other forever. Everyone will recognize I didn't lie and I'd be ready for anything if this were her wish."

He grabbed a glass fragment in his right hand.

Some seconds later, a couple of blood drops had dirtied the wooden surface.

On his face, on his right eye, a long cut was dominating.


End file.
